TrapsWally’s traps for animals make no sense.He makes a box trap and hits them with it.He thinks chickens eat baby kittens so he lures Billy with kittens in traps.PoisonFirecrackersDrowning

Wally’s Hamburger Garden

Wally’s trained cow plants hamburgers in his garden and the two pesky beasts steal the burgers so Wally has to set traps for them which backfire on him.

Wally’s Chicken Hunt

Wally’s job is stressing him out. He’s a wig salesman at a department store.Wally takes a hunting vacation to relax. He figures if he causes stress for helpless forest creatures, that will ease his stress.“There’s nothing more Wewaxing than cauthing thtwess for helpleth fowest Cweatureth!”

There he meets up with Billy Chicken the zaniest creature in the forest.

She notices something awful about him! His bowtie is droopy and wrinkly. She puts her lips away and tells Wally "I'm sorry Wally, but I only like smooth young boys."

Wally is devastated until he finds an ad for a dermatologist who does peels. Wally goes and gets microdermabrasion-all over!

The doctor dips him into a burning searing chemical soup.

Wally comes out all read and swollen.

There is only one spot left untouched-a light thumbprint above his buttcrack where the doctor held him while dipping him.

He tells Wally that he will shed a few layers of old skin and in 4 days he will be as smooth as a baby's butt. So Wally plans a date with Petunia in 4 days, expecting to be pink and smooth.

On the date, Wally shows up covered in blisters and bloody scabs, with hunks of flesh just falling off of him like potato chips.

We haven't come up with an ending yet, so feel free to create with us.

..here's an extra idea...you know that little 'V' with the line in the middle just above your butt crack? I call that a "butt pussy". Maybe after Wally heals, he finds that his new skin is invulnerable-all except for his Achilles Butt-Pussy and he becomes a super hero and Petunia falls in love with him until some super vilain fins his weakness and punishes the butt pussy, defeating him...

I am right now laughing my ass off at Wally's catch phrases! I'm sure Eddie is laughing at them too. This Wally Man guy needs his own series! Or at least his own DVD series. I'm still curiouse about who would do his voice. Would Wally Man be the voice of you, Eddie, Eric Bauza or Vincent Waller? Anyway, Wally Man is really a funny-ass idea for a cartoon series. I wish him and you the best of luck.

ending idea...The devastated Wally stands at Petunia's doorstep, sobbing and trying to re-attach scabs, above him, on the roof, is Billy Chicken with a medievil pot of molten lava, poised to dump it on Wally. The moment Wally hits the doorbell, Billy dumps the lava load on Wally, which completely cleanses his skin and melts away only the blemishes, so when Petunia opens the door he is sparkling and smooth. She hugs him and notices all the dried up lava and skin chunks on the ground. Wally says "thumb one kwapped in yowa yodd" (someone crapped in your yard). Then Billy Chicken says something like "curses!", then Wally and Petunia look up and Wally says "The thicken kwapped in yowa yodd"

Wally is freaking out because his skin is all messed up- so he goes to the local costume store and gets himself a Man suit to make himself look appealing.

Then the hot date! Petunia is about to kiss him- but quickly Wally tells her to look at something behind her. While she's investigating Wally takes off the head part of the suit so he can feel her kiss against his own lips. When she turns around she is scared out of her wits of the ugly monster in front of her eyes and starts beating him sensely and shouts for help! Some big muscular platypusses show up and start gnawing on Wally etc. etc.

OK I was on the Wallyman train - but I'm getting off. I like wierd, but this is too wierd. The drawrings (goes without saying) are funny as always, but the speach impediment is smacking of elmer and billy chicken is too close to a Bugs, invincible wisecracker type character. Though I appreciate the attempt at something different, I really can't see this working, it's feeling like you're trying to roll too many ideas into one gag at one time. Sorry to be a party pooper - but this is how I'm feeling and I thought it was more honest to let you know.

good stuff. i like the simple story premises where like all he has to do is catch some chickens for soup, because that type of story reminds me of old premises like wile e coyote trying to catch the roadrunner.

Okay, this stuff is starting to sound a lot funnier. I love the idea of Wally trying to beat the chicken to death with a box trap.

I love Jason's idea for an ending, too. The standard method would be to end each cartoon with the chicken invariably winning, but I think a clever twist would be to end each episode with Wally winning by some stroke of blind, dumb luck.

Or pick and choose between the two.

It's starting to sound genuinely funny instead of just gross and weird.

Petunia sees Wally and is both horrified and intrigued. She suddenly gets hot and heavy for the disfigured, scabby Wally, thinking that this is actually a major improvement. She starts moving in on him and he gets so blushy and flustered that he sweats like crazy, causing all of the scabby blistery skin to slough off, and underneath he looks absolutely PERFECT. Petunia sees this and is suddenly very bored with smooth skin, which is "so ten minutes ago." And circle marquee out.

HAHAHA love the butt pussy and the trap bits hehe; ok John heres a idea Wally man peals so Much !!! he is left in only bones and then Petunia says "Boy oh Boy now thats Smooth !!! and he runs Wally man Skull and the Go happy in 2 the sunset then Right at the end wally man trips and all the bones in his body fall apart ( from a distance)The end.well thats my story idea hope ya like it Bye

Hmmmm... maybe Billy Chicken can come over, Wally will get a biiig asthma attack and sneeze a whole load of snot over himself, which helps cure his ugly scab problem. I don't know which Petunia would find more attractive, the Wally covered in blisters or slime.

I think this story should have a happy ending. Petunia feels sorry for Wally, so she gets the same thing done out of sympathy for wally man. and at the end of the cartoon, they walk off into the sunset hand in hand bloody and scabby together.

OR! she shows up at his house having done the same thing to her skin...and she finally kisses him, but its this gross scabby peeling, puss bursting kiss.

Wally man should get the bird flu from billy chicken and then become and exterminator to rid the forrest of vile, disease ridden vermin.

an exterminator would be a more fitting job for Wally Man's character and the general idea of the show. wig salesman is funny though, dont get me wrong.

i donno. wig salesman/ exterminator? trys to humanize all the animals by shaving all their fur and feathers off and putting human wigs on them? HAHA..a chicken with a human hair cut would be great. but thats just me.

Billy wakes up Wally on the morning of the date with a gunshot to the ceiling instead of a caw. Wally grogely slumps to the bathroom. As he takes his first leak of the day, he looks in the mirror and BURSTS from the shock of what he see's. Billy gets covered with pee. He almost calls Petunia to call off the date when Billy stops him and says he has the perfect plan! HE will take Wallies place by ceverly disquising himself as his distinguished master. Wally thinks it over and takes another look in the mirror. He's obviously too hidious to be seen by anyone let alone his love, Petunia. So, reluctantly he agrees and they set out to make a suitable outfit in Wallies likeness. Later that night, Billy and Wally arrive at Petunia's house. Wally hides in the prickly bushes which tear at his sensitive skin. Wally wathes as Petunia answers the door and expresses a lustful delight over seeing this new and improved Wally (apparently with eyes bulging out of his mouth). Wally's thorn ripped eyes welp with tears when he hear's the grumbling growls of a wolf (or Petunia's guard dog) behind him. He leaps out of the bush and runs back to his house bloodied and exhausted, until he realizes that the dog is still chewing his leg...meanwhile Billy is making the moves on Petunia! WHAT'S THIS?! WILL BILLY MAKE PETUNIA HIS SLY HONEY?! WILL WALLY EVER BE FREE OF HIS HIDIOUS FORM AND RE-TAKE HIS LOVE TRUE?! YOU BE THE JUDGE!

Little longer than you might need but it might spice up the story a bit.

Perhaps when Wally initially gets the peel he looks radiant and completely smooth. However, once his date with Petunia starts the side effects of the peel begin to take hold. It starts out with just a little sliver of skin flaking off, and Wally tries his best to smooth it down, or cover it up when she is not looking. It can heighten into hiding oozing blisters, and just when the two of them are about to kiss, one bursts right in Petunias face. She shakes off the puss, looks at Wally, and all at once his horrific appearance is revealed. Petunia runs away, leaving a disheartened and shrugging Wally in a pool of his own puss.

On Saturday Night Live they called it a "coin slot". (But that's with pants on). Also, I think the anatomical term is coccyx. Well, that's the name of the bone underneath anyway.

How about the climax of Wally Man as a super hero has the villain giving him a spanking. Thinking he's impervious to anything, Wally says "Go ahead!" As Wally is getting spanked we dramatically crosscut to the "butt pussy" and then to Wally's over-confident face several times with an occasional cut to the villain's face as well. Then, when the villain hits "the spot" Wally lets out an ear-piercing shriek and we know his powers are no more.

Petunia leaves wally for another man that's a real metro sexual. He does all tahat crap that thoes bastards do what ever it is that they do.

Wally starts to follow the other man to see what he does that makes him so attractive to Petunia so he can do it to try and win her back. But when he does what ever it is that the other man does it goes horribly wrong and he gets more and more hideously ugly every time until he is finaly taken and put into a freak show and when people look at him they start to puke all over themselves until they are swimming in thier own vommit. He befriends a lobster with man hands (insted of a dude with lobsterhands) and he helps him to escape only to find that his lovely Petunia is married with 6 kids.

Insted of wally finding petunia married with 6 kids he finds that the new man is a villian and tied her to some rail road tracks and them all hes hideous skin falls off and he becomes a super hero.Wally beats the crap out of the soband saves the day. Petunia falls in love with wally all over again and goes in for a kiss when he gets hit by a train right in the butt pussy because he was standing on the tracks. when the train passes by Wally is disfigured and all bloody with his lips puckeredand Petunia says the she can't kiss him now and then Wally is sad.

John; you should add some other associate links to the Lost Episodes side box. Many people are likely to buy a few more dollars worth of stuff to get free shipping. Why not point them to Cartoons for Victory or the GAOLTs with your commentary and get a kickback there? Or Bjork's Volumen with I Miss You? Or the other RnS boxes? People might also be encouraged to cancel preexisting preorders and renew them through the links on here so you get the percentage, which I suppose this sentence is itself doing...

What will it take to get these cartoons made? Will these be web-only cartoons or will they come out on DVD?Wally Man and the George Liquor cartoon ideas are very original and twisted, just the way I like 'em! Please make these cartoons!

what if he called the girl and cancelled the date because he was so hideous, and said he was sick. She is angry because nobody stands her up, so she goes over to his house to see what is going on and peeks through his window and sees this glowing alien creature in his house which is actually him covered in blue aloe vera gel wandering around trying to not touch anything for fear of the pain and he doesnt want to get any gel on his furniture. She decides to attack the monster and remove it from the house because it must be the monsters fault she was stood up. she bursts into the house and unleashes the fury on the blue goo monster, and they tumble and roll out into the yard and end up in the dirt where they roll around before he finally succumbs to her beating and lays in the dirt moaning. she gets up and goes over the hose to rinse off her dainty little hands and reckognizes the incoherent moaning of the monster so she turns the hose on him and lo and behold its wally man! shiny and new from the aloe vera and the dirt exfoliation. she sees him and is impressed with his shininess, he asks if he could have a kiss now and she puckers up and then... notices the thumb print from the doctor and says ewwww, and leaves.

Hey John,I got a idea / test for my website.It's a cartoon called "The Dumb Network Executive"And He decides to pick the dumbest / cheapest show ideas and pilots and throws them on the line up.I really want to poke the crap out of them.But since you had experience with them, what would you like me to poke on them about?I want to make the animation great, and I'll film myself to get great expressions and acting posses to make it flow.Please John, criticize and much as you want because I want to be a similar cartoonist like you._Eric :) http://muppetpro.tripod.com/

hehe oh man i just saw on tv in that dateline show " To catch a internet predator" one of those internet predators they caught had a Ren & stimpy tatoo in his arm ehhehehe that was kinda disturbing and cool at the same time heheheh

Wally Man's constitution can no longer withstand the effects of the skin treatment. Wally Man is driven away in an ambulance to the hospital. While at the hospital, Wally Man continually meets beautiful women...1) Beautiful young nurses who will attend his every need2) Beautiful nuns who will provide spiritual healing.3) Gorgeous 'surgically enhanced' women. (Poor Wally Man is stationed next to the operating room where plastic surgery occurs).4) Miss Universe promoting her latest charity 'Cute Animals for Sick, Disgusting People.'5) Wally Man is in a commercial for sun tan lotion and wouldn't you know it...beach bunnies.

I think this would be the first time where Wally man has to cooperate with his cweetthuhs. You know, like Hippos let their tick infested hinds get pecked by birds. or barnacles grow on whales. symbiosys shit basically. Somehow wally man manages to do a trade with the animals to get them to help him. maybe during the 4 days wait he starts to miss petunia so much that he starts watching the disovery channel to feel closer to her. he discovers this symbiosys stuff and starts to scheme a trade. eventually wally man manages and gets his scabs pecked of by the chicken or maybe he submerges his scabby ass in petunias fish tank for the fish to nip off.

He ends up going on his date pefectly smooth.the last scene would be something with wally, petunia and the animals, petunia still oblivious to the "underground'deal" that went on.

Story ideas:Cancer Man (working title; for a kids show, you may not want to mention this)Wally has an inner ache. He looks bloated. Jokes ensue re: feeling sick. Billy Chicken mocking his illness.Wally pukes up a crusty, bloody, maybe even tarry looking version of himself. Wally is shaking on the ground and oozing afterwards, and a bit stretched out. Cancer Man introduces himself as Wally Man, with all of Wally's idiosyncrasies (but only almost as big as Wally). Billy is falling down on the ground, pounding his wing fist in laughter.Wally and Cancer at the breakfast table. Cancer has the look of happy stupidity. Wally looks consternatedly at Cancer while slowly and therefore messily eating. Wally still looks bloated, and Cancer looks more or less the same; as he eats his breakfast of whatever it is Wally eats (scabs? sunlight? sucking directly from capillaries that come from the ground?) , he increases in size until he's equal to Wally.Wally takes Cancer outside. Billy Chicken has come back to laugh. The two Wally's get all worked up and start sputtering lisping nonsense, even more nonsensical in tandem. Cutting quickly between close-ups of the Wally face, then cutting to Billy, looking like he's fearful, but it's just holding back the laughter that bursts forth. The Wally's then both get very sick, and fall to the ground, where they each puke up a new Cancer Man. Wally and Cancer 1 are oozing on the ground, but the new Cancers introduce themselves as Wally Man. Billy is incapacitated by laughter. But the Cancers have Wally's hate of Billy, and so proceed to beat Billy to a broth.From his hospital room in traction via binoculars, Billy sees the Wallys reproduce again the next day. He looks horrified, then resolute.

(Petunia may show up at some point in the cartoon after some of the Cancers have come out, looking tired but happy)

Billy goes on to cure cancer. First trying in his in his lab, then trying to extort it from a pharmaceutical company, and finally leading a movement to get the world to come together to cure this horrible affliction (see Billy in glasses and suit in front of a U.N.-like body, giving a stirring speech for the good of all organism-kind).

Cure in hand, Billy violently administers it to all the Wally Men, now practically filling the show's main locale. The cancers all end up smoldering away, and Wally is shaking on the ground while his eyebrows fall out. Billy sighs contentedly and kind of slumps into relaxation. He then falls to the ground and pounds his fist with hysterical laughter.

Zoom to Wally's stomach, passing through layers of flesh, eventually into some red, pulsing, dripping organ inside, zooming into a dark spot. It's a little cancerous Wally Man, giving the thumbs up and a wink to the camera. Iris closes.

Jen WhyTattoo artist (change this to body painting if deemed inappropriate for kidth) Jen Why is trying to get Wally to get a tattoo. He refuses, then runs away from her as she comes at him with an electric needle. He starts tearing off his skin tags and throwing them at her."Oooooooh. What are these?"She looks at them all slack jawed and glassy eyed. She starts tattooing the globular skin tag. Cut to newspaper lead story with Wally and Jen shaking hands on a story about Wally supplying Jen with skin tags.Cut to montage of tattooed skin tag production, going from solo work to large production line. Cut to a newspaper lead saying Easter eggs to be replaced with easter skin.Wally is reading the paper, laying out on a deck chair, plucking off skin tags and putting them in a box marked "out". He hears a thunk and then he sees a tattooed skin tag flying through the air over his fence. He looks through the knothole in his fence and sees Billy Chicken going back into his chicken lair with a golf club or a baseball bat. Whichever is funnier. Wally goes to Billy's window. Pressing his face against the glass, he watches Billy get a cereal box like box of Jen's Wallballs, pouring one out into a bowl. He then pulls out another box, marked "Voodoo Kit". He reads the instruction, dances around the tag, and sprinkles it with something. Billy pulls out a long needle from his fireplace, and pierces the tag with it. Wally doubles over in pain. Billy then puts a stud into the oozing piercing hole, pointing and laughing. Wally looks even more horrified at the piercing than being pierced. Billy puts on black goggles. He pulls out another box, marked "Nukes!". Holding the tag in one hand and holding a tiny nuclear bomb in the other hand and squinting with his tongue out like he's trying to thread a needle, Billy jams the bomb into the tag, which is incinerated in a blinding flash with a thunderous roar. Wally is dancing in fear with his fists up in front of his shoulders. Billy laughs, then picks up the box of tags. he tips it over, but nothing comes out. He takes off his goggles and walks up to Jen's factory, Wally shadowing him. Billy goes up to the take out window, and makes a huge order. Finally, Wally leaps out and makes some speech about how the "howwibow cweathhhhchew" won't desecrate the fruit of his skin. He goes into Jen's factory and hauls a huge trailer of tags back to his house. We follow Billy back to his lair, where the chicken mafia is waiting for him. They look at him coldly and evenly. He nods at them. They smile. They nod at their workmen and pat the pallets of easter eggs as the workmen start shipping them out, their monopoly safe.

Story ideas:Cancer Man (working title; for a kids show, you may not want to mention this)Wally has an inner ache. He looks bloated. Jokes ensue re: feeling sick. Billy Chicken mocking his illness.Wally pukes up a crusty, bloody, maybe even tarry looking version of himself. Wally is shaking on the ground and oozing afterwards, and a bit stretched out. Cancer Man introduces himself as Wally Man, with all of Wally's idiosyncrasies (but only almost as big as Wally). Billy is falling down on the ground, pounding his wing fist in laughter.Wally and Cancer at the breakfast table. Cancer has the look of happy stupidity. Wally looks consternatedly at Cancer while slowly and therefore messily eating. Wally still looks bloated, and Cancer looks more or less the same; as he eats his breakfast of whatever it is Wally eats (scabs? sunlight? sucking directly from capillaries that come from the ground?) , he increases in size until he's equal to Wally.Wally takes Cancer outside. Billy Chicken has come back to laugh. The two Wally's get all worked up and start sputtering lisping nonsense, even more nonsensical in tandem. Cutting quickly between close-ups of the Wally face, then cutting to Billy, looking like he's fearful, but it's just holding back the laughter that bursts forth. The Wally's then both get very sick, and fall to the ground, where they each puke up a new Cancer Man. Wally and Cancer 1 are oozing on the ground, but the new Cancers introduce themselves as Wally Man. Billy is incapacitated by laughter. But the Cancers have Wally's hate of Billy, and so proceed to beat Billy to a broth.From his hospital room in traction via binoculars, Billy sees the Wallys reproduce again the next day. He looks horrified, then resolute.

(Petunia may show up at some point in the cartoon after some of the Cancers have come out, looking tired but happy)

Billy goes on to cure cancer. First trying in his in his lab, then trying to extort it from a pharmaceutical company, and finally leading a movement to get the world to come together to cure this horrible affliction (see Billy in glasses and suit in front of a U.N.-like body, giving a stirring speech for the good of all organism-kind).

Cure in hand, Billy violently administers it to all the Wally Men, now practically filling the show's main locale. The cancers all end up smoldering away, and Wally is shaking on the ground while his eyebrows fall out. Billy sighs contentedly and kind of slumps into relaxation. He then falls to the ground and pounds his fist with hysterical laughter.

Zoom to Wally's stomach, passing through layers of flesh, eventually into some red, pulsing, dripping organ inside, zooming into a dark spot. It's a little cancerous Wally Man, giving the thumbs up and a wink to the camera. Iris closes.

Jen WhyTattoo artist (change this to body painting if deemed inappropriate for kidth) Jen Why is trying to get Wally to get a tattoo. He refuses, then runs away from her as she comes at him with an electric needle. He starts tearing off his skin tags and throwing them at her."Oooooooh. What are these?"She looks at them all slack jawed and glassy eyed. She starts tattooing the globular skin tag. Cut to newspaper lead story with Wally and Jen shaking hands on a story about Wally supplying Jen with skin tags.Cut to montage of tattooed skin tag production, going from solo work to large production line. Cut to a newspaper lead saying Easter eggs to be replaced with easter skin.Wally is reading the paper, laying out on a deck chair, plucking off skin tags and putting them in a box marked "out". He hears a thunk and then he sees a tattooed skin tag flying through the air over his fence. He looks through the knothole in his fence and sees Billy Chicken going back into his chicken lair with a golf club or a baseball bat. Whichever is funnier. Wally goes to Billy's window. Pressing his face against the glass, he watches Billy get a cereal box like box of Jen's Wallballs, pouring one out into a bowl. He then pulls out another box, marked "Voodoo Kit". He reads the instruction, dances around the tag, and sprinkles it with something. Billy pulls out a long needle from his fireplace, and pierces the tag with it. Wally doubles over in pain. Billy then puts a stud into the oozing piercing hole, pointing and laughing. Wally looks even more horrified at the piercing than being pierced. Billy puts on black goggles. He pulls out another box, marked "Nukes!". Holding the tag in one hand and holding a tiny nuclear bomb in the other hand and squinting with his tongue out like he's trying to thread a needle, Billy jams the bomb into the tag, which is incinerated in a blinding flash with a thunderous roar. Wally is dancing in fear with his fists up in front of his shoulders. Billy laughs, then picks up the box of tags. he tips it over, but nothing comes out. He takes off his goggles and walks up to Jen's factory, Wally shadowing him. Billy goes up to the take out window, and makes a huge order. Finally, Wally leaps out and makes some speech about how the "howwibow cweathhhhchew" won't desecrate the fruit of his skin. He goes into Jen's factory and hauls a huge trailer of tags back to his house. We follow Billy back to his lair, where the chicken mafia is waiting for him. They look at him coldly and evenly. He nods at them. They smile. They nod at their workmen and pat the pallets of easter eggs as the workmen start shipping them out, their monopoly safe.

I still can't figure out why people think this cartoon was racist. from the link posted at the top:

Historically, as far as I know, Coal Black was the first cartoon movie made in which black performers were not merely called in at the last minute to perform the voice recordings, but instead were invited to participate in the writing of the film, in the early storyboard phase. The purpose was to inject as much authentic black humor and expression into the film as possible, along with numerous impressions of black jazz music from the 1930s and early 1940s. It was also Bob Clampett's intention that this film should be as appealing to black audiences as to white. I have personally met two of the black people who were involved in the writing: Eddie Beale, a jazz pianist, and Herb Jeffries, the lead male singer for several years with Duke Ellington's band. Both of these people spoke glowingly of the experiences they had during production, and expressed a great enthusiasm for the finished film.

No more lame superhero parodies! More conflict! More jokes! I like these ideas!

I like Wally's traps. Here are some ideas for more traps:

He creates a rube goldberg device but it only kills roadrunners, not chickens. Next shot you see him cooking a really skinny bird on a shish kabob, looking mildy disapointed.

He builds a topless bar to trick Billy into going in, but instead of it being a trap, he builds an actual topless bar. Wally has to contend with drunk men and old strippers for hald an hour. It ends wiht Wally in court losing his liquor license. (Dramatic monologue from Wally's lawyer in the end)

Wally decides to drop nuclear bombs on Billy butonly succeeds in reincarnating Cancer Man. Chemotherapy jokes ensue. Wally goes bald and has to wear a toupe, which he sells to himself for double the value. He considers himself a shrewd salesman (If Clampet can make a cartoon about iron lung treatment...)

Wally dresses up as a female chicken but finds out Petunia is a lesbian... or rather, Wally drove her to lesbianism. Wally kills himself in shame.

Wally decides to build a better chicken trap... but to build a better chicken trap, he has to first make a bad chicken trap. But he only creates brilliant chicken traps, so he keeps trying to make a faulty one. Several, in fact. Spot gags, culminating in Wally going insane and ranting about his own inadequecies.

Wally tries to get Billy declared insane but the judge has been paid off by Billy. Wally tries to raise money to bribe him more. He goes insane doing so.

Wally sues Billy in a civil suit, but Wally somehow ends up sentenced to 18 consectutive sentences of life in prison.

Wally puts gunpowder in Billy's food, and puts up a sign that says "Do not eat! Gunpowder in food!" Billy believes the sign and Wally walks up, happy that he was able to trick Billy.

Wally decides soap dispenser buttons are the only chicken repellants worthy of his yard, so he buys up a gross or three. They conspire with Billy to fustwate Wally. Wally commits suicide.

These areoff the top of my head... please critique. I think i did that switcheroo thing waaay to much.

>> I still can't figure out why people think this cartoon was racist. from the link posted at the top:Historically, as far as I know, Coal Black was the first cartoon movie made in which black performers were not merely called in at the last minute to perform the voice recordings, but instead were invited to participate in the writing of the film, in the early storyboard phase. The purpose was to inject as much authentic black humor and expression into the film as possible, along with numerous impressions of black jazz music from the 1930s and early 1940s. It was also Bob Clampett's intention that this film should be as appealing to black audiences as to white. I have personally met two of the black people who were involved in the writing: Eddie Beale, a jazz pianist, and Herb Jeffries, the lead male singer for several years with Duke Ellington's band. Both of these people spoke glowingly of the experiences they had during production, and expressed a great enthusiasm for the finished film. <<

God bless Friz Freleng. He is in no way my all-time favorite director at Warner Bros. (a topic heavily debated recently, my personal favorite will always remain Jones, followed very closely by Clampett), but he was probably one of the most solid directors to ever work in the industry. Very, very few directors can be claimed to have consistency in delivering a well-done and overall enjoyable product for their entire career, and Friz is most certainly one of them.What I think he did best, and this is why I admire his work, was timing. His sense of it was unique, because he knew HOW to deliver the punchline and to get the biggest laughs from all members of the audience. It's nowhere near as razor-sharp as Clampett's, whose timing I do prefer, but Clampett was brilliant as well, and brilliance doesn't appeal to all people.

Case in point. I have been to several unbiased (and unsupported by Warners) screenings. One I remember fondly was one of Reg Hartt's in Toronto. Only my father and I and a few others (two were a couple whose idea of a night at the movies was a six-pack of beer and watching Warner Bros. Cartoons... my kind of people!) were in attendance.

Reg played a lot of great ones, the best from all the directors. These other people, none of whom were very scholarly animation wise, laughed their asses off at I TAW A PUTTY TAT, HIGH DIVING HARE, RABBIT'S KIN, AWFUL ORPHAN, and BULLY FOR BUGS. I was amazed that not even the booze made them find brilliant shorts like THE GREAT PIGGY BANK ROBBERY, TIN PAN ALLEY CATS, or THE BIG SNOOZE remotely entertaining.-- Thad Komorowskihttp://classicanimation.blogspot.com/2006_04_16_classicanimation_archive.html======================================================

Thad has made primal judgment errors here. That’s because he is a boy not a man. He is taking what he sees through a keyhole to be what we see when the door is open.

He assumes that the audience reaction for this program would be the same reaction for every audience. I can say from experience this is not so. Each audience is completely different.

Secondly, he assumes that just because folks do not laugh their heads off they don't appreciate what they are seeing. I found out that is not true years ago when I ran a program of killer Tex Avery cartoons to a packed house. Not one person laughed out loud. "They must not like these films," I thought.

When they walked out every single person (there were hundreds of them) stopped by and said to me, "Thank you. That was really great!" Had Thad been there and walked out without standing by me he would have thought, incorrectly, no one found the films funny.

TIN PAN ALLEY CATS is such an awesome work that most people are blown away by it. After all, it does in 6 1/2 minutes what YELLOW SUBMARINE does in 90. It is not uncommon for the film not to get a single laugh. Does that mean people do not like it? No, it does not. People come up to me after having seen it and say, "Wow! I never knew they made them that good!" Genuine awe always generates silence.

I am not particularly fond of fans. In fact I encourage fans and film buffs not to come to my programs. I have yet to meet a fan I wanted to know. I doubt any other artist has either. Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote, "Fame is proof the public is gullible." Gullible people are boring.

After fans come critics. Just as street people spend their days drinking cheap booze so critics spend their lives watching mainly bad movies. It does not take long for their sense of taste to be completely lost.

A local critic wrote the standard politically correct tripe about D. W. Griffith and THE BIRTH OF A NATION. The piece had more holes than Swiss cheese. The very least of his errors was crediting Edna Ferber (SHOWBOAT) with having authored Margaret Mitchell’s GONE WITH THE WIND.

When this was pointed out to him by myself and a great Griffith scholar did he have a change of heart for the better, admit his error and correct the record. No, he did not. He let the lie stand. He’s a nice guy but there nothing to him. Everything he writes is laced with convention. In Hexagram # 48, THE WELL, of THE I CHING we read:

“The town may be changed,But the well cannot be changed.It neither decreases nor increases.They come and go and draw from the well.If one gets down almost to the waterAnd the rope does not go all the way,Or the jug breaks, it brings misfortune.”

The rope not going all the way means we stay rooted in convention, what we have been taught to believe. We fail to break through.

Damn few film writers are worth reading.

When I first began doing these programs (nearly thirty years ago) one group of fans told me that Chuck Jones had made Tex Avery angry because he had claimed credit for creating Bugs Bunny in a Peter Bogdanovich ESQUIRE interview. I had not read the interview. I printed that mis-information in an issue of my publication, ANIMAzine.

In 1980 Mr. Jones agreed to come to Toronto for a three day symposium. I sent him a set of ANIMAzines. He sent me back a letter which was one of the finest and most richly deserved spankings I have ever received plus a copy of the ESQUIRE interview. I found that he had taken great pains with Bogdanovich to ensure that credit went where it was due. In the book collection of his ESQUIRE interviews Bogdanovich included an angry letter from Tex about the issue, yes, but Tex mis-read the piece himself.

I did not deserve it but Chuck Jones became one of my best supporters. Before he passed away he sent me a hand created Grinch Xmas card on which he wrote, "Your thoughts are always close to my heart, Hartt." He was a great teacher.

Speaking of which there was at that time (and still may be as far as I know) no greater mine field to wade through than the one between the Chuck Jones and Bob Clampett camps.

I come down squarely in the Clampett camp because I worked with him organizing my events. I never met a more caring, considerate, generous, helpful man than Bob. Period. In conversation with me he always made sure I got my facts straight. He was generous to an extreme with giving proper credit to others.

Bob was also someone who actively went out of his way to help new people (a thing hardly anyone does).

I remember the day John Kricfalusi came to me in shock. It was the fall of 1978. He had been kicked out of Sheridan College as his teachers thought he had no talent and told him he was a bad influence.

Bob invited John to live in the apartment over his garage in Hollywood. "Find a job. Earn while you learn. Bring as many of your friends as you can," Bob told John. John had dropped by to let me know he was leaving. He gave me Bob Clampett's phone number so I could get in touch. Without Bob Clampett John Kricfalusi would never have gotten the chance he got. John was just one of the many Bob helped.

That particular day, it was a Sunday, I ran a program at Innis College on the University of Toronto campus that went from noon to midnight. I had a total of eight people all day.

I said to myself, "If I am going to get through the year I need to do something new."

That night when I got home I invited Bob Clampett to Toronto for a three day symposium in the summer of 1979. The next morning Bob called and said he would be glad to come.

Every Sunday at Innis College I offered four hours of cartoons. These were not easy shows to do. It was almost impossible to get the content. I had to buy the films. Basically I was giving a course in animation history to one student, myself. I wanted to see everything I could. I was buying the films. I needed an audience to be able to experience the films properly.

The worst way to see these films is alone. They are meant to be experienced sitting with tons of other people. Joe Adamson in his book TEX AVERY, KING OF CARTONS writes that TORTOISE BEATS HARE is not very good. As a result, though I had a print, I did not show it. One day I thought, "How much harm can one bad cartoon do in a four hour show?" To my astonishment it blew the roof off the house.

There is so much misinformation in animation history books it is unbelievable. I invited one author who was passing through Toronto over. He came. I showed him many of the films he had written about. I did not say a word. I let the films speak for themselves. After seeing them he said, "Damn it! That's what I get for relying on second hand information. I am going to have to re-write that book." The number one source for this maasive misinformation is the fan.

The only animation historian we can trust is Leonard Maltin.

Many of the other writers are nice but dumb. I don't think they have ever really been laid (a common experience movie fans share). They may like the Bunny but they don't make love like bunnies.

I first got interested in Hollywood Animation when I read the Winter 1975 issue of FILM COMMENT which was devoted to the Hollywood Cartoon. I had no idea such interesting work had been done. I had not seen most of the films I read about. I wanted to.

When I went to Disney, Fox, Columbia, Warners', Universal, MGM, Paramount to rent the films they all (except Disney) told the same tale. It cost more in paperwork than they made off the rentals. They had tossed their cartoon libraries in the trash. Disney did not have the ones I wanted to see.

Fate stepped in. I got a phone call from a retired man who told me he had some old cartoons for sale. I bought his collection (these films were once offered in legitimate 16mm prints for the home market, then in 8mm and now on vhs and dvd. The beauty of the 16mm prints is that they are uncensored).

The first program I did I pulled only a handful of people. When they talked with me I listened. They were interesting people. When I did the program again a few weeks later the people working with me said, "Only eight people came out for that program last time. Why are you doing it again?" "Because they were eight interesting people," I replied. "You are crazy," they said.

After the program ran they said, "How did you know you'd get so many people?"

When I did it the third time we had to turn people away.

"How did you know that would happen?" they asked.

The more shows I did the more people called me with cartoons for sale. I went from having to look everywhere to where people now come to me.

From the get-go I wanted my audience to know what was special about the films they were seeing.

I took Lon Chaney in THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA to a college to show to five hundred students. "Do not be angry but they are going to laugh and talk all through the film," their teachers told me. "Not today," I replied.

I went up and introduced the picture. One of the teachers said, "I told you this would happen We should not have invited him."

I took half an hour. The kids listened to every word. I spoke about how Lon Chaney's parents were deaf mutes; about how, at that time, if a person had any physical malfunction they were looked at as children of Satan which means that Chaney grew up knowing what it is to be looked at as a monster. I told them how he had learned pantomime so he could talk to his parents. Then I said the girl is the monster in this movie not the Phantom. She is that person you loved who thought you were not good enough for her. She is that person who broke your heart. She is that person who said to you, "Good bye, honey, and I am keeping the money."

I had created the score for the film myself. I composed it out of the kind of music that would have been heard in the actual Paris opera house at that time. I explained that I had created the score to be the voice of The Phantom. The lights went down. The film began.

The students gave the film their full attention. When it ended they were on their feet stomping and cheering. They came by where I was and said, "That was really great! I had no idea silent films were this good!" Each asked where they could see more of my work.

Meanwhile their teachers, with dumb looks on their faces, said, "They have never done that before. I wonder why they are doing it now?" We can lead a horse to water. We can not make him drink.

I do the same with my animation programs. There is no shortage of fans on the web carping about the fact they have to listen to me. Some advise people to come late so they can miss the talks. As the London, Sunday TELEGRAPH put it, “Hartt’s shows are brilliant! And they usually sell out!” Come late and you won’t get in.

David Ogilvy (who built the ad agency OGILVY AND MATHER up from nothing) in his book CONFESSIONS OF AN ADVERTISING MAN teaches that the secret to successful advertising is not to try to sell but to simply give your audience information. "Information sells," he says. Of course, getting information is hard work. That is why modern ads are so pale. They are all flash.

When I announced that Bob Clampett would be coming to Toronto the fans said, "We don't care. We just want to see the films."

I have always found creators more interesting than their creations.

I gave the matter some thought. There had to be a way to do this without them.

I took a chance on a full page ad in David Mruz's xlnt fanzine MINDROT, the journal of the animated cartoon. I offered 200 cartoons over three days plus the chance to meet and learn from Bob Clampett.

One particularly noxious fan was telling everyone not to buy tickets to the event. I gave him a ticket. That took care of that.

Then word began to come in from all over the planet. I pulled people from across Canada and the United States (including Hollywood). People came from England, France, Italy, Greece, Russia, Germany, China, Japan. People came from everywhere.

The locals fans complained the event was too expensive (it was pay what you can as I wanted everyone to be able to meet and learn from Bob who wanted to and I did not want them kept out because they could not afford it).

Bob had never met an audience that gave him so much love. He and his wonderful wife, Sody, were treated as royalty (which, in a very real sense he was and Sody is).

One thing I knew for sure was that a printed program would kill the festival. Once an audience knows what is coming they lose interest.

The worst thing a film maker can do is take a course in film making. In his book MEMO David Selznick writes, “When you make a B picture you use a script. When you make an A, you improvise.”

I had promised two hundred films. I had over five hundred in the projection booth. As soon as the audience seemed to lose interest I showed them something completely different. Because they never knew what to expect they watched riveted.

Basically I collectively masturbated the entire audience slowing down when I sensed an orgasm, picking up when I felt interest flagging but never allowing them to shoot their load until they saw the last film in the program. If that sounds gross, well, that is what entertainment is all about. You can not be a great entertainer unless you are a great lover. You don't get to be a great lover confining yourself to just one sex.

I imagined the audience as a giant vulva in which I had my finger; a giant penis on which I had my hand. My job was to make that cunt and cock feel better than it ever had.

I knew a fellow who had a penis not much larger than a baby's. Of course, he felt he was inadequate.

He went to New York. A much older woman in her sixties took him on as her lover (he was 18).

When he came back to Toronto it was amazing to watch women react to him. Any bar, club or space he entered women were drawn to him automatically. He just oozed the knowledge that he could make love. He glowed.

It ain’t what you got. It is what we do with what we got. As the native people put it, “Ride proud on a poor horse.”

So guys, toss out those penis enlargement devices and go get yourself a much older woman with lots of experience to be your teacher. As Zorba the Greek puts it, "A real man unbuckles his belt and looks for trouble."

I threw on an old Terrytoon. "Why are you showing us this crap?'' demanded one of the few fans at the event. As soon as the film was over a fellow from Britain charged up to me shouting, "Wow! That was brilliant. I have never seen anything like it."

The biggest complaint I have with the Warner animation dvd collections is that they are too fan driven. Fans are the absolute worst people to listen to. Fans as a whole are a bunch of old women gossiping over the back yard fence. Fans may think it is a great idea to put a bunch of cartoons dealing with a single theme in a package. The public, however, when confronted with that says, "Why are we being shown the same film over and over again?"

The people putting these collections together have absolutely no sense of show business.

On top of that fans always show the best films first so that audience interest goes down instead of up. We must never lose sight of the fact that the first thing we are here to do is entertain. Entertainment works best when the audience is learning. But if the learning comes first the audience loses interest. Audiences demand, rightfully, to be seduced.

By and large fans are sexually immature. Whenever I introduced A TALE OF TWO KITTIES and told how Bob Clampett had modelled Tweety on his own nude baby picture the fans would get angry and say, "That's not true!" Of course, it is true.

Other fans say it is not true that Bugs Bunny flashes his multiplication equipment in THE WABBIT WHO CAME TO SUPPER. Technically, they are right. Bugs steps out of Elmer Fudd's shower and drops his towel enough to let us see his crotch. The illusion is created for all of the audience (except the sexually immature fans) that we are seeing more of Bugs than we thought we would. It is a brilliant throw away gag. It gets a helluva laugh whenever I show the film.

Chuck Jones was doing a presentation locally when a fan in the audience asked if it was true he was almost fired for making THE DOVER BOYS. "Yes," Jones told him.

"Well," said the fan, "I still don't believe the rest of those stories Reg Hartt tells."

One of my favorite stories comes from Shamus Culhane (another caring, considerate, generous, helpful man). Shamus and I talked nearly every day on the phone while he was alive. Ditto, Grim Natwick. I learned a helluva lot from him. One day Shamus called and said, "Reg! I'm writing a novel about the history of animation. You will never guess how it starts!"

My first thought was it started with a blow job. Shamus laughed and said, "It starts with a blow job in the back of a car!"

He passed away before he got that novel finished. I was invited to New York to do a presentation at the famed Thalia Theatre. I did it on condition I could do a tribute to Shamus Culhane. "Who is he?" they asked. "The reason why I will come to your theatre," I replied.

I got there and found my name on the marquee. "Take that down. Put SHAMUS CULHANE up there," I said.

That night, at the main event, the legendary Al Aronowitz introduced me to the audience.

Al had been a crime reporter for the New York Post in the 1950's. His editor's son was hanging out with some crazy homosexuals who smoked pot, sucked c**k, f*****d butt, flashed switchblade knives and spouted poetry. He sent Al down to write a hatchet piece.

Al said, "When I walked in I realized that for the first time in my life I was in the presence of living poets."

Instead of writing a hatchet piece Al wrote the first positive piece about Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg and William S. Burroughs to appear in the media.

He met Bob Dylan in a laundromat, said, "Come with me," and took the kid to Allen Ginsberg who took one look at Bob and then did his best to get the pants of him. Bob was a drop dead beautiful boy in those days.

Al introduced Mick Jagger to Miles Davis and when The Beatles came to America and he found they had never smoked pot he left them so grateful they gave him part of an album. Al introduced me to New York. He got up and said, "Let me tell you why I love Reg Hartt."

What a way to come to the Big Apple!

Al had written a book called THE BLACKLISTED MASTERPIECES OF AL ARONOWITZ. I had written to him after I read about him in a New York paper. He wrote back. One day he called. We talked a lot on the phone. He told me no one would give him a reading. I brought him to Toronto. That started a tour that took him across America (most animators I have met today are culturally illiterate). The day after the Thalia Theatre event Al gave me the Cook's tour of New York and got me so stoned I could barely move. You can see pictures of Al at my site: http://groups.msn.com/DinnerAtCineforum.

I did six shows back to back that day. I never worked harder in my life. Most of the folks for the first show stayed for the second. Only the fans left. "What an asshole that guy is," they muttered.

On the third show the few fans in the audience asked the theatre to shut me up. When they were told, "Mr. Hartt [b]IS [/b][u]the show," they demanded and got refunds.

By the fourth show we had the bulk of the audience from the first, second and third shows staying over.

When it got down to time for Shamus the place was full of people who had been there all day. Shamus' health was such he could not introduce his work. Those who knew him then know how frail he was. "If I had known I was going to live this long I would have taken better care of myself," he told me. Shamus' wife, Juana, was a real blessing. She is that rare combination of inner and outer beauty that glows in the night.

I spoke for Shamus. He had many friends in that house that night.

When everything was done an old Chinese man who had sat back by the projection booth all day from the first moment to the last said to me, "Thank you. This has been the best day of my life."

Over the years literally millions of people have said that.

A few years after Shamus passed on a fellow in Toronto got the city to publish a paper for street people to sell. I offered to write a history of animation that would be continued in each issue. I decided to start it with Shamus Culhane's blow job story. That was too much. The city burned all 250,000 copies of the paper.

When I invited Friz Freleng to Toronto I asked if he would care for a fee.

"Can I bring my wife?" he asked. I wondered who would say no to a question like that.

"Yes," I said.

"In that case, there is no fee," he told me.

I found out later that when the art galleries colleges, museums, schools, universities, film societies etcetera were asked that question they always said, "It's not in our budget." Mr. Freleng would then demand and get a fee of $10,00.00 which he gave to his wife for shopping money while she was out of town with him

I was excited about his visit. Not so the animation students at Sheridan College in Oakville who all said, "He is old hat. He has nothing to teach us."

At that time I was head of a non-profit company with a board of directors. They took a vote. I was told to call Mr. Freleng and tell him the event was off..

I went out to the front office. "Hello, Reg," said Mr. Freleng as I picked up the phone. It had not even rung. He had called me before I even dialed. This is called synchronicity (meaningful coincidence in time).

"Yes, Mr. Freleng," I said.

"DePatie-Freleng has folded. I am back at Warner Brothers. They do not want me going anywhere they don't approve of. They don't approve of you."

My first thought was, "Gee, I am off the hook. All I have to say is 'Well that's too bad,' and I won't lose face." I said, "How do you feel about it."

"Well, I gave you my word and my wife is looking forward to the trip."

"Then I guess you are coming up," I said.

My board of directors looked at me in shock.

Then I flew down to New York where I talked with the head of the Warner Brothers' legal department. I had listed five of Mr. Freleng's films on the flyer announcing the event.

The lawyer's name was Bernard Sworkin. He is a gentleman. "Oh, those are his credits," he said. We had a pleasant chat. Mr. Freleng came to Toronto. Bernard Sworkin is a memorable man. I genuinely enjoyed meeting him. He, himself, was worth the trip.

I brought Mr. Freleng and his wife to Toronto via AIR CANADA FIRST CLASS. I told them they had the creator of the Pink Panther and many of the finest films starring Bugs Bunny, Elmer Fudd, Daffy Duck, Tweety, Sylvester, Yosemite Sam and more on board. They put Friz in the Captain's seat when the plane landed in Toronto. I put them up at the Royal York Hotel. This was five star all the way without a dime of anybody's money but mine.

On top of that there was no fixed fee for my events. They were all done done on a pay-what-u-can basis. In most cases pay-what-u-can means pay-as-little-as-you-can. Not this time. Generosity breeds generosity. There never were many animation students at any of my symposia. What few there were though were the best ones.

There may not have been many animation students in the audience but there were tons of regular people.

We were packed.

What I did not know was how hot the Pink Panther (whom Friz had created) was.

Friz was astonished to discover that this crowd cared more about meeting him than they did about seeing his films. It was the only time in his life when he received the respect that a Pablo Picasso or a Salvador Dali got from their public. He deserved it. He was in their league. He is one of the great unsung artists of the twentieth century.

"I am only going to talk for half an hour," he said going in.

Three hours later (and not a film shown) he was still going strong. The crowd poured out so much love that the years fell off. He found himself energized by the experience. "I was told you are doing something good up here. I am glad I came," he said.

For three days and three wonderful nights Friz Freleng poured out his wealth of knowledge. I have a wee bit of it preserved on a dvd which is available on request. Every word Bob Clampett spoke was also recorded. I have a huge set of cds of Bob plus dvds and cds of Grim Natwick and Shamus Culhane that are also available on request. I also self-published books of the Clampett, Freleng and Narwick talks (animation students and fans are not the least bit interested in this material).

That Christmas (and every Christmas up to his passing) I called Friz to wish him the best.

"You are the finest host I ever met," he said that first Christmas adding, "Lilly sends her love."

That means more to me than money. So, Thad, Friz may not be one of your favorites. He got five Academy Awards for his work. He was doing something right. He was one of the best teachers I ever had.

When Bob Dylan switched from acoustic to electric the fans (thousands of them) said they had come to hear acoustic and if they were not going to get acoustic they wanted their money back.

"Go git it and git out," said Bob.

The last people serious artists should concern themself with are the fans.

The best thing about these films now being available on dvd is that it keeps the fans away from my door. ==================================================================="I want no part of the group dynamic. The group by nature is always second rate. I am a star."--Katharine Hepburn when invited at the start of her acting career to join New York's prestigious Group Theatre.

"Like the belief of the terminally ill in medicine, the belief of the legitimately frightened in the educational process is a comforting lie."--David Mamet, TRUE AND FALSE.

that comment was interesting, yet full of wrong facts at least when it came to any events that concerned me.

I never lived with Bob, nor was I kicked out of Sheridan.

But yes, Bob did help me a lot and he helped others too. I witnessed his friendliness to all fans and his generosity and hospitality.

I never have attended events where they ran his cartoons that people weren't laughing wildly.

I saw an event that showed a bunch of Freleng cartoons, then a bunch of Clampett's and the audience reacted way louder and enthusiastically to Bob's films.

One guy asked why the first few cartoons were funny, but kind of calm and not very animated and then the second batch was so wild and insane and hilarious, and Bob stuck the mike in Friz' face and said "Friz will have to answer that!"

And Friz did! He said after Bob and Tex left the studio, Chuck and he got together and decided to calm the cartoons down. He was proud of it!

You are forgetting I met your teachers at Sheridan, saw first hand for myself what dull stick-in-the-mud creatures they were and with my own eyes witnessed their antipathy towards you.

Lack of talent? Bull. You are one of the most talented people I have ever met. Do you think I invested time in going to Sheridan at your request to do presentations for the feww dollars we made? Hell, no!

I went there because you were a hungry kid who wanted to see as much as he could so that you could be the best possible person in your field that knowledge and talent could make.

I sat in the back and listened to the handful of teachers who did attend our programs say they really did not think the presentations we were doing were good for your fellow students.

Is this an unusual thing? No, unfortunately, it is not. In his book CONFESSIONS OF AN ADVERTISING MAN David Ogilvy writes, “Sir Arthur Conan Doyle said mediocrity recognizes nothing higher than itself. That is not true. Mediocrity always recognizes what is better than itself and always seeks to destroy it.”

Salvador Dali was kicked out of art school in Spain. His teachers said he had no talent and was a bad influence on his classmates. Every one who gets told that is in xtremely good company.

I do not enjoy seeing people I love get hurt. I will never forget that afternoon you came by Innis College to let me know you were going to California. You gave me Bob Clampett’s phone number so I could get in touch with you. You told me Bob had offered you a place. Whether or not you accepted the place he offered does not matter.

Bob was something more important than a great cartoon director. He was a genuinely decent human being.

When I went out to Hollywood for Grim Natwick’s 100th Birthday Party my one regret was I did not get a chance to visit with you. Sody told me about the show you were working on and about your battle with network censors over how many times a character could lick a toilet bowl.

I told her that I really do not see the point in doing work, no matter how brilliant, we do not own the rights to.

When Friz was here he was asked which character was his favorite. “My wife likes Bugs Bunny but I like the Pink Panther. I make money off him,” said Friz.

When Bob was up here he was asked why the pace was changed in Warner cartoons after 1946. He replied that during the war we knew who the bad guys were but that when the war ended he, Friz, Chuck and the rest had seen the need for a change in the style of the films because they felt post-war taste would be more subdued.

At the end when Chuck Jones took charge of the studio he decided they should have a house style. As far as I am concerned, that is always a mistake. The secret to anything is to attract talented people and give them the freedom to do things their way.

One fourteen year old boy brought a 16mm animated film he had made to me to show during the Clampett symposium. I put it on the screen without letting anyone know a kid had made it. The audience, composed of people (including professionals) from around the world went nuts.

That fall the same kid showed up one day in tears. His film teacher had told him his film was no good and that he lacked the talent to be in a film class.

I told him, “Look, you showed your film to hundreds of people from around the world who went nuts over it. Now whose verdict are you going to listen to? In the arts we can not allow ourselves to be at the mercy of another person’s subjective opinion.”

Thankfully, that kid got out of that teacher’s clutches when a local animation producer who had seen his film put him to work.

Another fellow asked what I thought the best course to follow for a career in animation. I remembered how shabbily you were treated at Sheridan and told him to stay as far away as possible from animation schools, to find a studio that needed people and was willing to train them on the job.

The kid was staying in my house. He went out, came back two hours later filled with enthusiasm. He had gotten a job. I asked him where.

“You are at the best place in town,” I said.

Later that week I met his boss. I told him about the kid who had asked for advice in building a career in animation and of how I had told him to stay out of animation school.

“That was good advice,” said his boss.

“I told him to go out and find a studio that needed people, was hiring and would train them on the job,” I continued.

His boss said, “That was excellent advice.”

“He took it. He got a job at the best studio in town.”

“Where is that,” said his boss.

“Your place,” I replied.

“Who was it,” he said.

I told him.

He said, “That kid is great! Thanks for sending him my way!”

I have continued to urge animation students—in fact, all students—to get out of school and into the work place. Douglas Eliuk, who was a thirty year officer of the National Film Board, friend of Norman McLaren, and formerly Canada’s Cultural Attache to America, was a regular here after his retirement.

The kids would listen in astonishment when I told them to get out of school. He backed me up.

“What a pair of assholes,” most of them muttered although, now and then, some would come back to say thanks because they had listened and jump started their careers.

I have no hesitation in saying you are one of the most important artists to work in the field of animated cartoons. You single handedly revolutionized animated cartoons. You revitalized the medium. There are a helluva lot of people working today who owe their jobs to you. Few of them, however, measure up to the standard you set.

Were you the only Sheridan student to ask me to let you run cartoons from my collection at the school. No, you were not. The teachers, however, remembering the experience with you put every possible obstacle in their path.

The second time I brought Grim Natwick to Toronto Shamus Culhane and his wife, Juana, came up from New York. As I listened to Shamus speak I wanted to hear more. I asked if he would come up here for a week long symposium on his career. He and Juana came up. I made the admission pay what you can and watched him pour out of lifetime’s worth of knowledge to a pocketful of people.

The fans were saying, “If he were any good he would not be at Reg Hartt’s.”

The next year Shamus’ book TALKING ANIMALS came out. Tons of folks who had given that event the cold shoulder now said, “If only we had known…” Well, they had been told but they had not listened.

I can not believe that there is not one producer on the face of the earth with enough sense to give you your head and let you do without interference what you do best which is to make brilliant films.

If one ever does come along your fertile mind will make that person rich beyond the wildest dreams of avarice.

As far as I am concerned, if there is a future for the medium of animated films, YOU ARE IT.

As far as audience reaction to the films goes, Bob told me the most harrowing part of his Toronto visit was one man who sat in the front row and never once laughed. You know the high caliber of Bob’s work. This man just did not find the films his cup of tea.

I am unique in the field because I do not want work. To borrow some words from Henry Miller’s OPEN LETTER TO SURREALIST EVERYWHERE, “For my part, I will say that whatever else I may want, I know I don’t want work. To live as an artist I stopped work some ten or twelve years ago…Naturally I was not paid to stop work and live as an artist…if one chooses to live his life in his own way he must pay the penalty…”

I refuse to give the power to move a single comma of what I create to another person because that person will give me a slice of bread.

In Montreal is the Ouimetsoscope, the first motion picture theatre ever built in Canada and the United States (http://cinematreasures.org/theater/6084 ).

When I went there around 1986 they had cut it from a 1,200 seat house to a 500, 300, and 50 seat venue. I wanted the 500 seat room. They gave me the 300. In the 500 seat room over the time I was there they did twelve shows of a brand new movie at $2 a seat to a total of sixty people grossing $120.00.

I did four shows in the 300 seater at $7.00 a seat grossing $8,400.00. Each show we had to turn away hundreds because we lacked seats. At the end the manager said, “Mr. Hartt, we had complaints about your show.”

I said, “Love we had twelve hundred people through here. We had to turn away hundreds. With that many people I am not surprised we had a few complaints. If I were you, however, I would say, ‘Thank you. How soon can you come back?”

“You are never coming back. You are too rude,” she said. That theatre closed soon after.

No loss. I then got invited to a thousand seat venue. I filled that time and time again. Often the police came out to help with crowd control. I have had the same experience across Canada and in The United States at art galleries, colleges, museums, schools, theatres and universities. John Tutt, who runs a theatre in Waterloo, Ontario wrote, “Doing a Reg Hartt show is like getting a license to print money.”

There is no need for theatres to die as they now are except one. The people running them have not an ounce of show business blood in their veins. Ditto the networks that will not, it seems, open a way for you.

Remember, no one who wants to build muscles lifts feathers. The future belongs to the few who refuse to give up.

A while back I was having a beer on the front porch when a fellow came up. “Thank you,” he said. “I was out in Hollywood and people were talking about animated cartoons. I joined in. I was asked, ‘Where are you from?” I told them Toronto. They said, “Then you must know Reg Hartt.’ Because I knew you I got invited to an “A” list Hollywood party.”

Just do the work. The name gets out there.

Years ago I learned from Cecil Taylor (http://www.google.com/musica?aid=_0XBPtSraOG&sa=X&oi=music&ct=result) the key to success in the arts is to find some place small in our own city where we can present our own work on a regular basis without being interfered with. “Do that,” he said, “and the world comes to your door.” This is true.

I can not too highly recommend this site to your readers: http://www.rit.edu/~cma8660/mirror/www.johntaylorgatto.com/underground/ . Mr. Gatto has put his entire book, THE UNDERGROUND HISTORY OF AMERICAN EDUCATION up on the web for free.

If anyone explains the importance of what David Mamet says in his book, TRUE AND FALSE, (“Invent nothing. Deny nothing. Stand up. Speak up. Stay out of school.) it is Mr. Gatto. —Best, Reg